


Empty and Weightless and Maybe

by unos



Series: The Point in Between [1]
Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, Hurt/Comfort, I'm not sure yet but if I ever write a sequel I promise to figure it out, M/M, Multi, Napping, Platonic Relationships, Polyamory, Romantic Friendship, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2018-10-21 08:59:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10682031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unos/pseuds/unos
Summary: World Team Trophy, after the short program. Shoma can't enjoy his win, because Yuzuru is devastated. Javi helps.





	Empty and Weightless and Maybe

**Author's Note:**

> After WTT, I felt like writing something comforting and schmoopy. This is that. I think we all need a billion naps. 
> 
> Title from _In the Arms of an Angel_ by Sarah McLachlan. I cannot not and I will not apologise.

If the JSF had known this would happen, thinks Shoma, they would have cancelled WTT.

Yuzuru comes off the ice crying. The tears blend into the sweat that is gathering on his face, and he’s not sobbing, so it’s not obvious, but Shoma knows this facial expression. He was in this position just last year, and seen this look it on his own face because people keep shoving old footage into his face. He'd never imagined seeing it on Yuzu’s and he never wants to see it again.

They are all tired, run down and drawn too thin by this season. It’s been a tough one, the competition so steep that the tiniest mistake could cost you a medal. Really, it might have been smart to bow out of this competition, because they've been hanging on by a thread during the world championships already. Yuzuru had pulled out that miraculous free skate from some undiscovered reservoir of energy, and he had come out of it completely depleted.

If Shoma wants to sleep for a hundred years, he thinks, then Yuzuru must want to sleep for a thousand.

Yuzu hugs Tracy, makes his way over to the Kiss and Cry and collapses on the bench. Shoma is certain he isn’t hiding his worry well, but it doesn’t matter. Noone ever looks at him when Yuzu is in the shot.

He wishes, suddenly, desperately, to take some of that attention, and the pressure that comes with it, onto himself. He’s been coasting along happily, letting Yuzu do the brunt of the talking in interviews, because Yuzu has always seemed to like the attention, seemed to be happy to distract everyone from Shoma because he knows that Shoma hates it, hates being analysed and questioned. Hates that every minute twitch of his facial muscles is captured and dissected. Not that Shoma is expressive in front of cameras. Something about them makes his face feel like stone, makes it hard to smile or frown. He thinks about Yuzu pinching his cheek to make him smile, thinks of Yuzu taking his arms and waving them at the audience, thinks of Yuzu standing close to him, holding him, and wishes he could do the same right now.

He wishes Javi was allowed to be here, because Javi would just sit down next to Yuzu and draw him into a hug and Yuzu would bury his head in the crook of Javi’s shoulder and then he could cry and no one would know. But Javi is somewhere in the audience, or maybe he’s back at the hotel with Miki. Shoma doesn’t know. Shoma has been studiously keeping to himself since Worlds, feeling guilty about his silver medal when there are so many skaters who are much stronger and better than him. He's happy, of course. He's proud. He just wishes--

They make it through. They make it through the rest of that night, which isn’t much time at all because Yuzu skated last, and then, on the way back to the hotel, Shoma takes out his phone and thumbs a message to a number he’s never used before. He doesn’t know what to say, or how to say it, so it ends up short and awkward, but he figures he should do it because he doubts anyone else will think to. It feels presumptuous to meddle, but Shoma is too worries not to. 

He thinks about Yuzu looking at him side-ways, about the audience laughing as Yuzu says “Oh, it seems I’ve been left out.” He had laughed along, of course, but something had lodged itself between this throat and his lungs in that moment and he hasn't been able to properly swallow since, the feeling catching up to him at odd moments.

“Hi Javi, this is Shoma.” He writes. “Can you come to Yuzuru’s hotel room in half an hour?”

Javi’s immediate reply is a relief.  

“I saw the long! I’ll be there, text me when you guys are at the hotel.”

It seems almost unfair, to ask Javi to take care of Yuzu, when javi also wasn’t feeling confident and happy, but Shoma knows they are close friends. And after last year’s worlds, Keiji had followed him to his hotel room and bothered him into coming out with the others and about not spending time alone and Shoma had felt frustrated and on edge, but he’d also felt taken care of. He remembers hanging out with everybody, after the gala. How nice everybody had been, how comforting it had been to see that his fall from grace hadn't changed much. He wants Yuzu to feel that, too, even if he doesn’t quite know how to go about it.

The commute from rink to hotel takes some twenty minutes, but they seem to stretch into eternity because no one quite knows what to say. Shoma knows that he’s hovering so he stands to the side, and watches. Yuzu looks like somebody has drained to color from him, completely exhausted. Taking off his skates, changing out of his costume, showering, seems to have drawn the last of his energy, and now, in his usual black outfit, he looks narrow. Thinner, paler than usual. Like he'd disappear if Shoma took his eyes off him. 

In the time between the kiss and cry and now, Yuzu has bitten his lower lip bloody. Shoma aches for him.

Yuzu sits on his own on the bus, completely detached and in his own world, curled into himself. Usually, he fidgets and talks, or has his headphones in and mouths along to his music. Even when he’s dead tired, Yuzu puts everyone else at ease in a way that Shoma thinks he must have adopted from Javi, who has that same easy-going social grace. People just relax in his presence.

Shoma, too, relaxes as soon as he sets eyes on Javi, who is hovering anxiously in the entrance to the hotel. Miki is with him, but keeping to the side. Shoma goes to join her, but she waves him off, so he is left standing awkwardly behind Javi and Yuzu, who are hugging like their lives depend on it. It feels like the moment lasts forever, though it's probably only seconds. 

If Shoma’s English was better, maybe he could understand some of what Javi is whispering to Yuzu, whose shoulders are heaving. He has his face buried in Javi’s shoulder the way that Shoma had imagined before. Shoma should feel better. Instead, he feels at a loss. He wants to turn away and leave, maybe go hide in his own room, pull the comforter over his head and nap until tomorrow. He doesn’t want to skate the free.

Back in the rink, right after his skate, Mihoko had told him to relax, to enjoy this victory, but Shoma can’t. Not when Yuzu is so miserable.

It’d odd how, over the last two seasons, Yuzu has become so central to his world. When he’d advanced to seniors, Shoma had promised himself not to focus on his competitors, not to focus on his placements. He had always, always wanted to be like Daisuke, who had told him to try to beat himself, rather than anyone else. To be the best he can be, to challenge himself and advance himself without comparing himself to other’s achievements so much. Looking at Yuzu and Javi, Shoma thinks that maybe that’s a fallacy. That maybe, if Yuzu hadn’t pushed himself quite so hard, he wouldn’t be so devastated. 

It’s an ungracious thought.

Javi catches his eye over Yuzu’s shoulder, motions for him to follow when he starts to slowly shift towards the elevators. Shoma hesitates, looks over his shoulder to see if Javi was really looking at him, because he can’t quite imagine why. Instead, he sees Miki out of the corner of his eye, who has a strange expression on her face. She almost looks sly, eyes narrowed with intent. She catches him looking and comes up to him, shepherds him into the elevator after Javi, who is half-pulling, half-carrying a quieting Yuzu along. Yuzu continues hanging onto him like a limpet, but Shoma suspects he does it out of comfort rather than necessity. 

But, yeah. They were probably making a bit of a scene. Thankfully, the hotel is private, no media. The only ones to take pictures would be other skaters and their guests and families, and Shoma hopes that they ware kind and empathetic enough to refrain from sharing them online.

“Come along, small Shoma,” Miki sing-songs, and throws an arm around his waist. She’s a bit taller than him, Shoma realizes, and she smells like flowers and cinnamon and comfort. “We all need a big cuddle after these past weeks.”

He looks at her more closely at that, nods when he sees the set of her mouth, barely refrains from bowing because it might detach her arm. She’s smiling, but it’s a sad smile. She must remember this feeling well. 

They don’t go to Yuzuru’s hotel room. Shoma wouldn’t even know where to find it. Instead, they find Javi’s, where two beds are pushed together into one giant super bed. They have extra pillows, because Javi and Miki are adults who are not afraid to call room service and ask for things.

Miki pushes Shoma fully into the room and closes the door. She takes Shoma’s bag out of his hand and drops it right there, and pushes him towards the bed.

“Here. Sit. Take off your jacket.” He does, and hands it to her when the motions at him impatiently. “Trousers, too.”

“Why?” It’s not that he’s uncomfortable, because weirdly enough, he doesn’t mind so much with her and Javi and Yuzu. A year ago, he might have, but they have seen him at his best and at his worst, and they change together all the time anyway. 

“Can’t sleep in your trousers, can you?” Miki smiles, and gestures. “You all need about a billion naps, and I’ve decided that I am making you take them.”

“Oh.” Shoma mumbles. He pushes his trousers down and off, and sits there, kind of numb, in his boxers and his long sleeved shirt. It sounds good. Naps sound good.

“And you will cuddle.”

That sounds weird but also ok. Shoma looks around to see that Yuzu and Javi are also in the process of undressing. Javi sees him looking and shrugs.

“It’s kind of a tradition.” He says. Yuzu, red-rimmed eyes and all, looks up and nods as well. He’s changed into a soft cotton t-shirt that looks worn and old and Shoma thinks oh. Oh, tradition.

Miki smiles at him when he looks back at her, shrugs too.

“It’s their thing.” She says. “I’m going go and see if I can find some good food. I’ll wake you up in two hours to eat.”

She moves over to Javi, draws him into a hug and a kiss. Shoma looks away, shifts awkwardly where he is perched on the bed. Yuzu takes his wrist.

They’ve been touching a lot, lately. Shoma likes the occasional hug from Mihoko, or his family, but no one has ever sought him out as much as Yuzu has, had reached out casually for his hand or his hip and moved him around like Yuzu tends to do. Over the past few competitions, he’s accepted his fate as Yuzu’s Pooh- or Javi-substitute when Pooh or Javi are unavailable for some reason, but right now, Javi’s right there.

Shoma hears the door click shut behind Miki. He keeps looking at Yuzu’s hand on his wrist, at his long, even fingers and clean nails. Yuzu’s hand is big enough to wrap loosely around his arm with space for his fingers to overlap. It looks nice. It looks safe, comforting.

Shoma lets that feeling settle over him, lets it draw out the very last tension and anxiety in him. He lets himself be pulled onto the bed fully, lets Yuzu push him into an acceptable position. it's nice, not having to figure this out himself. It's nice not to think about doing things with his body, but letting it happen instead. He feels the muscles in his body unlock, soften. He ends up on his back, squashed against Yuzu’s side, Yuzu’s head against his, with Yuzu’s arm slung over his belly and his leg bent over Shoma’s. It’s nice, it’s warm and the pillows are soft, even though his head ended up at a weird angle and he fears he’ll develop a crick in his neck if he stays like this for too long. But right now, it doesn't matter. Yuzu is a heavy weight against his side, and he is held down, calmed. 

He realizes that his eyes have fallen shut when the bed dips under Javi’s weight. Javi pokes Yuzu’s arm, and when Yuzu grumbles and buries deeper into Shoma’s side, Shoma notices that Javi has a tall glass of water in his other hand. Shoma fidgets, tries to lean up. He feels weirdly guilty about letting Yuzu cuddle him while Javi takes care of the important things. 

“Hey. Yuzu. Hey hey Yuzu.” Javi whispers. “You should drink something. You both should.” 

Yuzu grumbles again, and pulls Shoma back down. “Nooooo,” he croaks out. “I’m too comfy.”

He says it in Japanese, and Shoma is pretty sure that Javi’s language comprehension, while not terrible, is not quite up to slurred, muttered growls. He can’t help but giggle.

“He doesn’t want.” Shoma makes himself say, in English, “but we force him to!”

He tries to shimmy out from under Yuzu’s embrace, manages well enough to fully sit up and take the glass from Javi’s hand. It’s a ridiculously sized cup. He takes a gulp or two, and sees that Yuzu is watching him when he sets the cup down. It’s easy to dip a finger in and draw a wet line over Yuzu’s cheek, then under his eyes, where tears have left salty tracks. Yuzu's skin is soft, and warm. He grows less pale as Shoma's hand progresses. Shoma ends at Yuzu's chin, and pulls away. He looks up to see Javi smiling, his eyes crinkling. Shoma smiles back, suddenly feeling shy. He can feel his face go warm. 

Yuzu makes a complaining noise, drawing their attention back to him. As if they would ever truly ignore him. Yuzu reaches out for the cup, leans up, and drinks it down in one go. Shoma can’t help but snort when Yuzu twists at the waist, looks at Javi and says “Good enough?” in the most petulant, childish tone. Javi just laughs at him.

He takes the cup back, sets it on the night stand, and gets onto the bed. Shoma watches as Javi fits himself to Yuzu’s back, draws him back down into the pillows.

“Naps, now.” Javi says, in a Japanese that he must have adopted from little Sunflower. Yuzu sighs, let’s himself be cuddled.

Shoma, too, lies back down, and it’s easier than he’d thought possible to turn into Yuzu’s embrace, to fit his arms around Yuzu's slim waist, and slide his hands between the knobs of Yuzu’s spine and Javi’s stomach. To hide his face in Yuzu’s neck.

Javi giggles, a little, whispers “oh, tickles.” Shoma wants to wriggle his fingers, perhaps, but his arms feel too heavy. His entire body feels heavy and warm and comfortable.

It’s not an experience he’s had before, this. It should be weirder, maybe more awkward. But instead it feels right. Yuzu breathes warm against his forehead, and he can feel Javi sigh softly on Yuzu’s other side. It’s soothing. It’s easy.

They can lie like that, for a little bit, and ignore everything out there. Maybe, after they wake up, everything will look a little less painful. Maybe, after they’ve rested, Shoma can ask them what it means, for him to be here with them, for him to be a part of this.

But it’s not important right now. Right now, Shoma is letting his eyes close. He is letting himself hold Yuzu tightly and he is letting himself hope that this will make Yuzu and Javi feel better. That, held between Shoma and Javi, Yuzu feels loved.

He falls asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I really enjoyed all the comments on the last fic. Thank you for all the love, I feel so welcomed and supported <3
> 
> (That said, I'm happy and sad abt the results of WTT. I'm sad-happy. I'm sappy. Can we have a sappy party in the comments?)
> 
> EDIT:  
> I DIDN'T SEE THE PHOTO OF SHOMA HUGGING YUZU IN THE K&C SO THIS FIC IS BASED ON OUTDATED INFORMATION I'M SORRY


End file.
